Encounters
by ScaryScarecrows
Summary: Meeting the Batman is unavoidable when you're a professional criminal.
1. Make a Fool

"M-Mr. Batman? Sir? There's an injured man on the top floor, but the woman with him won't give him up. She said she'll talk to you, but that's it."

Who was this? He hadn't met this guard before. All the same, he believed him. He had to go up there, in case it was really serious.

He could hear sobbing as he went up. So the guard had been telling the truth. What was going on? And where was everyone else?

The sober turned out to be Kitty Richardson. She was cradling Jonathan Crane in her lap. His mask and glasses were lying on the ground beside them. Jesus.

"Batman." Her voice was choked. "Help him. Please. Take him to a hospital or something, please!" She adjusted her fingers on the bloody scarf she was pressing against his side. "Help him!"

She may have been insane, but Batman pitied her. She was scared and desperate.

"Goddammit, do something!"

He knelt beside them, wondering how best to handle this. There had to be a way to pick the man up without making it worse.

Jonathan mumbled something, his voice muffled by the scarf around his throat and mouth.

"Crane?"

"Checkmate."

_Ssssprayyy!_

Fuck.

There was just no other word for the situation.

Even as the walls melted, he could see _them_ getting up and straightening themselves out.

"Good night, Bats. Always a pleasure."

"My tailbone hurts."

"My shirt is ruined. Did you have to use so much soy sauce?"

"The ketchup was too orange without it."

Mother's screams drowned out anything else.

AN: What? I had to let them win at least ONCE. I feel guilty on Scarecrow boss battles, for crying out loud!


	2. Understanding

He hadn't been looking for them. He had been looking for the Joker. But there they were, seemingly asleep in front of a flickering TV. This was a golden opportunity.

"Hello, Bat-Man." Maybe not. "Can I help you with something?" He would just stay right here until he was sure Crane was unarmed. "If you give me a minute to wake her up, we can leave. As long as you don't break my glasses again." There was a chiding note in his voice. "You can come in, if you must."

He stepped into the doorway and stayed there. Crane was unarmed, as far as he could tell, but that didn't mean anything. He still remembered the toxin-laced watch.

"Well? There's no reason to knock us out this time. Are we going or not?"

"Do you want to go?"

"When has that mattered?" The TV turned to static and Crane turned it off. "What do you want?"

"The Joker."

"Sorry, I enjoy living."

"He took a girl."

"That's typical."

"He's poisoned her."

"Don't blame me, I've been here all afternoon."

Batman sorely considered shaking the man and thought better of it. He didn't have time to deal with this.

"Tell me where he is."

"Why on earth would I know? His plans change by the minute." The woman in his arms shifted and murmured his name. Batman froze. They hadn't booby-trapped this place, had they? It wasn't unlike them to rig up scythes and pressure pads. "As I said, I enjoy living."

"Crane…"

"There's nothing you can do. Threatening me isn't going to help you, and if you knock me out, I _can't_ tell you anything." Dammit. "If you take me back to Arkham, they'll sedate me and you'll get nothing."

He knew, then. Or at least had an idea. The clock was ticking, he _really_ didn't have time for this!

"You love her."

"Kitty? I'm fond of her, yes."

"What would you do if she was gone?"

That shut him up for several minutes.

"They _might_ be on Avenue X." he said at last. "But that was the plan this morning."

Good enough.

As much as he loathed to do it, he had to give the man something.

"I'll be back." he growled. "Don't go anywhere."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

He was back within two hours, but there was no sign anyone had been there.

Well, _almost_ no sign. A small item sat on the floor. A quick check said that it was safe to pick up. It was a prescription bottle with clear liquid in it. A note was taped to the lid, written in Crane's illegible scrawl.

_One (1) dose of Joker Venom Antidote. Best results when taken intravenously. Side effects may include: vomiting, tremors, and hallucinations._

Below, in a heavier, messier scribble was another note.

**_Thank you for choosing Scarecrow Pharmacies. Please scream again._**

The cheek! The absolute _gall_! How dare he suggest that Batman not have his own antidote! Never mind the fact that his antidote was probably outdated.

_Fine_. He would give them until tomorrow before starting his search. But he wouldn't have to like it.

AN: This refused to leave me alone until I wrote it down. Inspiration's funny like that.


	3. Confrontation

_I should have studied job opportunities more._

**Crack!**

That had been his head. Oww.

He slid to the ground, feeling bricks catch his clothes and aggravate old injuries. Why, oh why did this always happen to him?

It was supposed to be a simple pick-up. No Batman, no police, no nothing. But somebody had tipped off the cops and he had been forced to run during the resulting firefight. Batman had caught up to him a few blocks away.

**_When I get my hands on that little prick…_**

_Shut up and get us out of this!_

For once he was grateful for Scarecrow's high pain tolerance. Everything still hurt, but he was pretty sure broken ribs were supposed to hurt more than this.

His back met the wall again and he stayed down this time. High pain tolerance or not, this hurt and moving sounded like a bad idea.

**_We're going to run. Just be quiet and let me handle this._**

_Run? Run how?_

**_I don't know yet, but we're not going back to Arkham. I don't like that shit they put you on._**

That made two of them. But running sounded _hard_.

Batman approached them, his cape swirling behind him, and knelt down.

"Just give up, Crane."

Scarecrow scowled behind his mask. Why did everyone always mistake him for Jonathan…oh. Right. Oh, the fun of sharing a body.

"How many times do we have to go over this?" he complained. Jonathan said something about behaving. Wuss. "Scarecrow. My name is Scarecrow. How would you like it if I called you by some other guy's name? I'm not Jonathan any more than you're Bruce Wayne! God!"

That earned him a hand around the neck and a rough shake.

_Congratulations, you've irritated him further._

**_Sorry. Pet peeve._**

He was dropped again. Ow. It was now or never. Batman probably wasn't expecting him to run, anyway.

_Get going!_

He rolled away and scrambled to his feet, expecting for God-knew-how-many pounds to slam into him.

_Hurry up!_

**_Would you like to try?_**

He fled. There was the sound of a fluttering cape behind him, but he ducked down another alley and pressed up against the wall, wheezing. There had to be a way to get back home without being caught.

_Go straight, then make a right. Then a left, then another left…_

AN: Oh, Scarecrow, if you only knew how close you really were...


	4. Hostage

Lupin fan1-I considered having him figure it out, but it turned out like Jurassic Park-very badly.

AN: It only worked once. But it was a good once. Takes place directly after Batman Begins.

She slams into him like a freight train, toppling them both against a cold cement wall. He knows this one. It's the nurse Crane took with him two months ago. Sick bastard.

She's sobbing, clinging to his cape like a security blanket. He'll find Crane later. Right now he has to get her out of here.

"Come on." he rasps. "You're okay, you're okay."

"Batman?"

"Yes."

"He was going to kill me." she whispers. "He's kept me in here for ages and there's been needles…"

Sick, twisted bastard. It's amazing this woman had the sanity she does. He remembers his own experience with the toxin, and it was not pleasant. They're leaving right now.

"We're leaving. You're okay."

She's suddenly yanked away from him. Where did Crane come from? He hadn't been there a minute ago!

"She's not going anywhere, Batman."

"Let her go, Crane."

"If I don't?"

Batman steps forward, well aware that he looks particularly menacing in the low lighting. Crane shrugs and he imagines the man smirking behind his mask.

"Fine."

He lets her go. Just drops her arm and stays where he is.

"Step away."

That smirk has turned into a full-on grin, he can just tell. All the same, he backs away, hands held mockingly above his head. The woman doesn't move.

"Come on."

"She won't go with you, Batman." Crane calls.

"Shut up."

"She's been free to leave this whole time."

"Don't move, Crane." he warns. "Ma'm…"

She's looking at him with wide eyes. Wasn't she crying a second ago?

She grins at him. There's far too many teeth in that grin. Then she steps back-straight into Jonathan Crane's arms.

"Before you ask, it's not Stockholm."

Well. If Crane can get a date, anybody can.

"You'll both have to come in, then."

"I don't think so." Crane says softly. "Good night, Batman."

Then he feels it-the beginnings of a drug working its way through his veins. How could he have been drugged?

"I don't think the perfume worked quick enough to be effective. Too diluted."

"Clearly. I'd love to stay and watch the fun, but I left the other one in her cell and I need to check on her."

"I'll put the kettle on and have the boys get him out of the way."

So. There's two of them now. He'd worry about that more if he wasn't sinking into the floor.


	5. Victory

Lupin fan1-So did I. :)

AN: And that's a wrap! At least until I get some more ideas.

Jonathan Crane falls back on the concrete, grinning through a mouthful of blood. He's got broken ribs, countless bruises and a bloody nose, but he's won all the same. Batman took five minutes too long catching up to him this time. He won't have time to stop anything.

The mask is jerked off his head-he needs a new one, this one smells-and he's suddenly on his feet. Back to Arkham it is, then.

"Give me the antidote, Crane."

"Oh, it's too late." He spits the blood out. Some of it lands on Batman's shoe. That was honestly an accident. "There's nothing you can do."

"The antidote!"

What will happen if he says no? He'll be shaken a bit, maybe knocked out, and he'll go back to his cozy cell at Arkham.

In other words, the same thing that will happen if he says yes.

"No."

Sure enough, he's shaken a little bit, yelled at, and finally thrown against the wall when he won't stop laughing.

He wakes up in the infirmary at Arkham, handcuffed to the bed as always. Hopefully Kitty taped the news report for when he gets out of here.


End file.
